


Where Do We Go From Here

by orphan_account



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 13:18:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4436900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Kinkmeme prompt fill</p><p>Prompt is: "Angharad miscarries early in her pregnancy while Joe is away. Terrified of Joe taking it out on her and not wanting to deal with another round of impregnation attempts from him, she decides to keep it a secret. When he returns, Joe resumes sending Coma to play Angharad to sleep. She convinces Coma to impregnate her before Joe can get suspicious. Joe has started keeping guards posted outside her door during these visits, so Coma has to keep playing throughout the attempt(s?)"<br/>http://madmaxkink.dreamwidth.org/450.html?thread=823234#cmt823234</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Do We Go From Here

Have you ever wanted to just, go?" She murmurs quietly into the soft skin under his chin.

"Hmm? What d'you mean." He asks drowsily, his hands resting warmly across her ribs, jumpsuit pushed down to tangle around his waist so she could do the same.

"I mean, just go. Somewhere else, somewhere better. Away from the raids and the fighting. Away from Joe." She sighed and curled herself up a little tighter dragging one leg onto his hip and nuzzling into his throat. "Do you even think that kind of place still exists Doof?" She whispered.

"Of course it does." He answered, huffing a soft laugh into her hair. "The world belongs to all of us. Joe don't own any of it."

"Sure does feel like it sometimes." She mumbled pulling the blankets a little higher around their shoulders.

"I know." He responded, nuzzling at her hair before planting a chaste kiss on her forehead. "I know."

\---

The nights were cold in the wasteland, cold enough that one almost wished for the scorching heat of daylight, almost.

Thankfully, Joe was gone more often than not these days. Triumphant in the knowledge that one of his wives had finally fallen pregnant. Reveling no doubt. 

Only the other wives and Miss Giddy knew of the fever she had come down with on this particular night. Only Miss Giddy woke as well when Angharad was rudely awakened by a pain in her stomach like a sudden sharp kick.

The others woke only in time to see a somber Miss Giddy with an armful of blankets that, on closer inspection, were spotted with blood.

"Get rid of it!" The splendid Angharad screamed lividly at the heartbroken old woman. "To the wretched with it! Serves him right!" She cried.

Only when Miss Giddy had hurried out to bury the mass, hardly a child at all, in the desert sands where no one would ever find it again, did she allow herself to break down.

Only then did the full consequences dawn upon her. He would be furious. He would beat her, blame her, rape all of them for another child. This would only make things worse.

"We won't tell anyone" The others had whispered soothingly.  
"we'll figure something out." Miss Giddy had added upon her return, stroking her back gently.

\---

They had all smiled, falsely of course, just a few days later when he returned from wherever he had decided to terrorize next. 

"Welcome back." They said, though he was not welcome at all.

"Thank you." He said, though he was not thankful in the least. To his thinking it was no less than what he deserved.

"Are you still having trouble sleeping at night?" he asked Splendid, his favourite.

"Yes." She replied, perhaps a bit too quickly. "If it isn't too much of a bother, could you send for your musician again. He plays beautifully." She grit her teeth at her own subordination.

"Sure. Happy mother, happy baby eh?" he laughed roughly.

"Yes." Miss Giddy had agreed.

\---

"I lost the kid." She confided later. Sitting in a quiet little room all her own, her apparent pregnancy had brought many a privilege with it.

"I don't know what to do anymore."

She had always had trouble sleeping in The Citadel, at least Joe could be persuaded to send Coma by when he was in a good mood.

She had long since become a bit too attached to him, a little kindness went a long way and after Joe's treatment it was nice to just sit and have someone around to listen and listen to.

She had no doubt Joe would consider them far too close if he knew. She didn't sleep with Doof. But she did kiss him, did cuddle up to him when Joe had been particularly nasty. She had told him so many things already and his loyalty to her was never in doubt.

He stopped playing for a beat. "Can't you jus' have another?" He asked bluntly, before resuming his melody, from his spot in the chair opposite her.

"No. He doesn't come anymore, he's too afraid of damaging the child he thinks I'm carrying." She sighed and hung her head for a long moment "Coma. Do you think, maybe, you could, help me?"

He raised his head sharply at her words. "I, I dunno Angharad. I'm not exactly fatherin' material meself." He stuttered out gesturing towards the empty space where his eyes should have been.

"What if it turns out lookin' like me? He's gonna take that none too kindly." Coma argued gently while he strummed idly at his guitar.

"I know. but what if it doesn't! He just might kill me over this as it is." She pleaded, reaching out to touch his arm where it rested on his instrument. "I 'need' you to help me. Doof please."

"Okay" He nodded and swallowed thickly. "Okay okay, we can try yeah?" He smiled weakly at her.

"Yeah, some other night though" She said, rising up from her seat on the bed to put her arms around his shoulders in a hug. "Thanks, Doof." She whispered quietly in his ear.

"Yer welcome" He murmured back

\---

Joe had war boys standing guard outside her room now, bringing her food, letting the other wives and Miss Giddy in when they came by. every hour of every day they were there. 

Joe claimed he had stationed them as guards to keep his child safe, but Angharad suspected he was just a paranoid old man, as frightened of losing as she was of him finding out he already had.

In the evening there was a knock, and the door swung open as they firmly guided the Doof through its opening before shutting it firmly behind him.

"Hello Angharad." He smiled blindly, nervously, into the room as he fumbled and shuffled forward, with his guitar strapped to his back, to find his chair.

"Hi Doof, it's good to see you." She replied, and his head swiveled immediately in her direction.

"Wish I coul' say the same." He joked restlessly, pulling his guitar around to his front and sitting down.

He heard her hum a vague affirmative as he tapped out the first few notes, a chord here and an arpeggio there, trying to busy himself so he didn't have to think about the conversation they had had just last night. He didn't have to.

Angharad stood in place for a long moment clenching her fists and chewing her lip. Trying to muster up the courage.

She inhaled a deep breath, then carefully exhaled it through her nose, in and out a few times until she finally forced her feet forward and put a, only slightly shaking, hand to the side of Coma's jaw, angled his head up and kissed him on the lips.

He stopped, his fingers halted along the strings. She drew back to whisper anxiously, nose pressed against his, "keep playing, the guards will know."

The melody started back up again as quickly as it had halted, fingers moving confidently, finding their proper places even as she pushed her tongue deeper into his mouth, her hands on his shoulders to keep her upright from leaning over the guitar.

He exhaled a shaking breath through his nose as she stepped closer to stand by his side rather than in front of him.

She then broke off the kiss and snuck her arm under his to make room between him and the guitar.

He moved it forward dutifully, lifting his fretboard arm as high as he could without breaking rhythm. She managed to wriggle under the arm and lifted one leg over his, almost striking him in the chin, to sit in his lap.

This time, he was the one to lean forward to kiss her, lowering the guitar and pulling it gently into her back to encourage her to come closer.

He licked and suckled carefully at her lower lip as her hands came up to push her top down. Then broke off and kissed the tip of her nose once, he could her smiling just a little when she huffed, then her ear end her neck down to her collarbone, resting his head a moment on her upper chest when her hands cupped the back of his head.

Her hands trembled slightly when they slid down the back of his neck to the collar of his jumpsuit and around to its buttons. They came open easily enough, he hardly ever buttoned them anyway. 

She pushed the wide collar down over his shoulders to his arms where he quickly finished the song and removed his hands from the guitar under guise of coming up with the next one.

He took hold of his sleeves and helped her draw his arms out of his clothes and push the red fabric down around his waist, here he slid one arm under her butt and lifted himself just enough from his seat to pull the whole thing down just enough for his almost completely stiff dick to lie against his belly when he sat back down again.

She followed suit, wriggling fabric free from under herself and untying her white shift, letting it drop to the floor at the side of the chair. It was easier than she had thought it would be, although she had to admit that it helped he didn't, couldn't, look at her the way Joe used to when she did this.

He was already playing again, his hands back in his guitar, arms on either side of her.

She kissed him again, put her hands on his shoulders, his chest. Reminding herself that he was nothing like Joe, felt nothing like Joe. He was warm, with soft unmarked skin and she could feel a warm mass in the pit of her stomach growing.

And that made it that much easier to support her arms on his shoulders and move farther into his lap, till his dick was pressed between her belly and his, and lift herself up and gently onto it with her head buried in the crook of his neck. Listening to him breathe in sharply then out again shuddering. 

The music didn't so much as stutter.

Slowly she drew her arms down off his shoulders again, leaving her head to rest where it was, placing her hands behind his hips on the back edge of the chair and settling her feet into the ground for purchase.

He played a little harder to mask the sound of her sighing when she rocked her hips back and then forward against his stomach.

She rocked back and forth in his lap settling into a confident rhythm while he played dutifully, using the guitar to subtly pull her in on the forward stroke.

He bowed his head kissing and nuzzling at her shoulder and up her neck, licking at her ear and exhaling deeply into her hair, she was breathing faster now, he noticed, so was he.

She moved steadily, shifting the positioning of her hands slightly to offer more grip, smiling a little when he grunted under actions that were finally hers to control.

He pushed the guitar a little harder into her back, encouraging never pressuring. And it drove her to dig her toes into the floor and push herself onto him harder as she gained speed, her hands beginning to tremble again for an entirely new reason.

He was grunting regularly now, playing almost loudly in an unusually upbeat tempo to cover it, she growled under her breath and thrust her hips against his hard as she felt the guitar press insistently into her back and his legs spasm under her, managing a few more shaky pushes forward before pressing herself stiffly into his front, groaning quietly into the skin of his throat before going limp and sitting limply in his lap listening to him pant over the sound of the strumming.

He kissed her ear once, and she looked up to see him smiling gently at her. After a moment she smiled back and rested her forehead on his before giving him a quick peck on the lips, gingerly untangling himself from his arms and stepping over to her bed to curl up in the sheets, leaving her shift wherever it had fallen.

The song ended, she heard him put the guitar briefly, stand, and fiddle with his clothes for a minute before he picked it back up again and following her to the bed.

He sat down on the floor next to it picking at strings idly with one hand while the other snuck under the blankets to hold onto hers.

When her breathing had slowed and evened out he quietly faded out his playing and rose, walking silently with his guitar at his back to where he remembered the door being and fumbled for a moment for the handle.

The guards greeted him quietly and he nodded at them, not quite trusting his voice yet not to crack. 

\---

He continued visiting her in their usual pattern, the guards never asked any questions of him, and he hoped that was a good sign.

She almost cried with relief when she told him she had not bled in well over a month, and he was unexpectedly happy to notice her stomach growing firmer, then larger.

They could no longer curl up in bed together the way they used to, lest the guards suspect he was not doing his job, but they could still have quiet conversations over his guitar and for that he was grateful.

In the months before the birth she had let him rest his head on her belly some nights, Told him she was convinced it was a boy as the child boxed too hard against her innards to be anything else.

\---

He heard the announcement in the same way as everyone else in The Citadel, by way of Rictus, the big brute, yelling excitedly at the top of his lungs.

"I HAVE A BABY BROTHER! I HAVE A LITTLE BABY BROTHER! AND HE IS PERFECT! PERFECT IN EVERY WAY!"

The war boys had roared back in exhilaration, revving ever engine they could, furiously chanting v8.

The whole citadel celebrated the birth of the pink newborn Joe proudly held in one arm as he allowed the wretched water.

\---

He would take the boy out on a drive around his part of the wasteland. To condition him to the life he would live, he said, the territory he would eventually come to rule.

They were of course accompanied by a huge part of The Citadel's armada, war boys and war machines crowded around the Gigahorse, with Doof on the Doof Wagon on its right.

He could hear the boy snuffle and fuss occasionally. Swiftly silenced with a bottle or an extra blanket to clutch between tiny fingers.

When they stopped on top of a hill around midday, the boy was less than happy. And Joe was growing audibly irritated with the boy's stirring.

So Coma called down in a soft voice asking if he should take the little one while Joe made his rounds, he had nothing better to do, "and the boy could probably use a nap." He pointed out.

Joe was all too eager to hand over the child, with a stern warning against doing him any harm, he was hastily assured as Doof took the child with gentle hands and held him to his chest.

Strapped into his bungee cords he put up his parasol to keep the sun out and leaned back putting his feet up on the guitar in front of him and the boy to the bare skin of his chest just under the red jumpsuit.

He delicately tucked him in with his head poking out past the collar and his quickly growing body sheltered under red fabric, sat back, and listened to the child breathe, then felt him yawn against his fathers chest before finally settling in with one hand supporting his body and the other stroking his wispy hair.


End file.
